Unspoken Secrets
by La Prima
Summary: An escape across the Atlantic brings Erik a new life and a chance at true love.
1. Prologue

Prologue

_April 1870_

_A ship in the Atlantic Ocean_

Meg couldn't sleep. It was one of many restless nights she had endured in the past few weeks and she knew it wouldn't be the last. The captain had informed her that they were still two weeks away from their destination. Throwing the crude cotton sheet back she rolled onto her side and gazed across the small stateroom at the dark, sleeping form. He hadn't left that small space since they had sailed. There was an unspoken pact between them. They would look after each other until the end of their journey. Once they reached land their promise to her mother would be fulfilled. Despite the distance that they had mutually created she watched him closely. At that moment he was so still. Crawling out of her bed, she glided across the planked floor on light, dancers feet stopping just short of the bed. She watched him intently until she could see the slight rise and fall of his chest.

_Damn you._

She wanted to hate him for everything he had put her through. Despite that there was a part of her that wanted to know him. He was a stranger to her, yet familiar in so many ways...


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter One

When Christine Daae left Paris and the Opera Populaire closed it's doors Meg had thought it was over. For weeks she and the rest of the corps remained in the dormatory while inspectors from the Paris police investigated the opera house. Eventually many of the girls in the corps decided to take positions elsewhere. Only she, her mother Madame Giry and a few of the opera faithful remained. Everyone in the opera had been subjected to hard questions during the intense investigation. Madame Giry herself been questioned relentlesly by the police in the past weeks. Everyone knew that she had a connection to the "mad man". Hadn't she hidden him before? What did she know? Through the hours of wrangling Madame Giry's answers remained the same. She didn't know where he was dead or alive. Despite her insistence that he was gone the police remained. Both she and Meg watched as they began gutting out his lair. Every day they made endless trips down into the dark emerging later with rolled up carpets and pieces of furniture that had belonged to him.The only thing they had not found was the white leather mask he had left behind. At night when Meg was alone she reached underneath her mattress and pulled the mask from its hiding place. Holding it in her hands she wondered where he was or if he had survived long enough to escape the opera house.

Their days had become long and suffocating. With the constant intrusions of the police much of the opera house was closed off. Meg dealt with the confinrment dancing in the small space of her mother's room while Madame Giry read the newspaper. There was a rumor that Monsieurs Firmin and Andre had offers from a very wealthy Italian financier who wanted to buy the opera house and open its doors again. With La Carlotta returning to Naples there were a few brave divas who wanted their chance to help ressurrect what had been Paris's most beloved opera company. Soon talk of the hoped for ressurrection died. It was clear that no one rich or brave was going to set foot in the opera house again.

Madame Giry spent hours at her writing desk composing letters to different family members asking for help in getting she and Meg settled. Her late husband's family refused to assist them. They had never approved of her or the fact that she had decided to raise their son's only child among the lowly and indecent opera performers. Madame Giry's parents had passed away long ago and only her younger brother Gilles was still alive and living in New Orleans.

"But that's so far away," Meg whispered hugging her pillow against her.

"Well our only option here is to live on the streets. We both know that Paris isn't kind to women without a _suitable_ vocation."

"But surely there are other places I could dance," she offered.

Madame Giry gave her daugter a sad smile and shook her head. "Where? Would you like to dance at the Moulin Rouge or on the street corner for a few francs? No ma petite. I want to bring you somewhere you can have a chance at a better life. Somewhere far away from here."

"But, I don't want to go. This is home!"

"Meg, it's over! Monsieur Firmin told the police that they want the opera empty in two weeks. We have no choice!" Madame Giry turned back to her desk as Meg pushed open the door and slammed it closed behind her.

She rushed down the halls without stopping to acknowledge anyone who crossed her path, pushing through doors and ignoring the signs warning everyone to keep out. She only stopped when she reached the stage and stared out at the darkened auditorium. The remnants of the fallen chandelier were gone. Only the mangled seats and burnt carpeting remained. The sight of it pushed her deeper into the anger that churned inside her. Without a thought she began to dance. All the pent up anger and sadness pushed her on with every pirouette and leap. She danced until she was exhausted and sank onto the edge of the stage. Sitting in the dark she thought over everything that had happened. Her mother and Christine, the two most important people in her life had been tied up so tightly in the twisted game that has played itself out. She had pretended innocence dancing happily with a smile that betrayed none of what she had seen or heard. The voice that echoed softly to Christine in the chapel, the stacks of letters with the red seal hidden in the drawers of her mother's desk were just two of the links to the phantom who ruled their opera house. Sitting alone on the stage she still felt that she was being watched. The sudden sensation pushed her to her feet as she stared boldly out at the empty theater.

"Are you here," she whispered. Her question was met with silence. It was like ice on her warm skin. Slowly she backed away and ran off the stage.

The persistent ticking of the silver clock woke her. The room was dark, but she could see that her mother's bed was empty. She kicked the sheets back and rushed to Madame Giry's desk where she lit a candle. Something was wrong. Her mother wouldn't have left without waking her up to tell her. She took the candle and opened the door.

"Mama," she called out as she began to walk the length of the corridor. Taking the stairs to the next floor she continued to call out to Madame Giry. After walking the entire second floor she came to the end of the hall to the door of Christine's dressing room. Her natural inclination would have been to open the door, but not anymore. She quickly turned her back on the door and began to walk away. The sudden weight of a hand on her shoulder sent her whirling around as another hand stifled her screams.

"Ma petite, it's me."

The sight of Madame Giry's face quieted her. She gripped her mother's hand in relief. "My God, you nearly scared me to death! What are you doing up here?"

Madame Giry cast a nervous glance at the door behind them and pulled Meg down the hall. "Come, we need to go back to our room."

Without a word they they both returned to their room where Madame Giry locked the door behind them. In the light of the candle Meg could see her mother's eyes were red and nervous. She opened the armoire and pulled out a box where she kept old cloth and linament.

"What is going on?" Meg persisted.

Madame Giry wouldn't answer, but continued to open drawers pulling out bottles of different medicines and balms.

"Mama!" Meg grabbed her mother's arm and looked her in the eye. Without a word she knew. "How long have you known?"

"This evening. A note was left here on my desk."

Meg sank onto her bed. So he was still there. A strange mixture of fear and relief churned inside her."How? With all of the police and the searches?"

"Do you honestly think they would know this place as well as he does?" She tied the bottles and bandages up in a cloth and headed to the door.

"I should go with you," Meg said following her.

"It would be best if only I know where he is for now." Madame Giry unlocked the door.

"But..."

"No! Stay here."

The door was quickly closed behind her. Meg returned to her bed thinking over what was now she and her mother's secret. She knew then that the feeling she had had while she was dancing was real. He had been watching her. Dropping her hand to her side she reached underneath the mattress and pulled out the mask. It still gleamed in the half light of the candle at her bedside. She ran her fingertips over the fine smoothness of the white leather.

The days that followed were filled with tension and whispers between she and Madame Giry. In the daylight they kept to themselves pretending to be occupied with getting settled outside of the opera house. At night Madame Giry left Meg with a bundle of food and other necessities under her arm. Though there were only a few gendarmes walking the halls of the opera they still had to be cautious. A week had passed since he had revealed that he was still with them. In another week she and her mother would be forced to leave. What would happen to him then? Meg was lost in thought when Madame Giry returned from her midnight run. With every night she looked increasingly haggered. She sank into a chair and began to take the pins out of her hair.

"How is he," Meg asked.

"Quiet. He ate this evening and the cuts on his arms are healing nicely."

Meg stood behind her and began to loosen the long fair braid that snaked down her mother's back." So what are we going to do with him when it is time for us to leave here?"

"I don't know ma petite. He is doing better than he was when I found him the first night. That in and of itself is a miracle." She handed Meg the silver brush.

"Once we leave the opera house will be empty. He should be safe enough."

Madame Giry rubbed her forhead."I wish I knew what to do. I've been looking after him for as long as I can remember. To leave him now..."

Meg linked her arms around her mother's shoulders. "Perhaps we should stay in Paris, close by. At least he would have some kind of help if he ever needed it."

Madame managed a small, but loving smile."You are still determined for us to stay here."

"This is home. There has to be a way that we can stay in Paris."

Madame said nothing, but stared into the mirror at her reflection. She knew that she would have to tell Meg of her decision soon. The passage to New Orleans had been arranged and the plan of escape had been worked out. Erik would be safe and Meg would have a chance to start a new life away from police and the opera house.

Meg was awakened by a soft, but persistent tapping on her shoulder. She opened her eyes to her mother's face.

"Come, you need to get dressed."

Meg sat up and looked at the antique clock on the mantle. It was after midnight. She looked over at Madame and the silken bag clasped in her hands. It was the bag she used on the rare occassions when they traveled outside of Paris. Immediately she was afraid. "Why do you have my bag?"

Impatience shot across Madame's face as she grabbed Meg's arm and pulled her roughly out of bed. "I told you to get dressed! Hurry!"

As Meg rushed to dress Madame Giry stood by the door waiting her eyes fastened to the floor. She couldn't look her daughter in the eye knowing what was to come. Would she ever understand her reasons?

"I'm ready," Meg whispered.

Taking Meg's hand in hers she led her downstairs, out of the dormitory and into the stable yard. Madame stopped laying a finger on her lips as she looked around for any of the gaurds who might be patroling the grounds. Once she was certain that the way was clear she led Meg out to the street and down one of the small alley ways behind the opera house. When they rounded the corner Madame stopped. Meg followed her mother's eyes to the end of the alley where a tall figure of a man seated on a horse waited. Immediately Meg realized what was happening.

"No," she whimpered pulling away from her mother.

Madame Giry grabbed hold of her arms and looked her in the eye. "It's the only way I know to protect both of you."

"Please don't make me go," Meg whispered. "Please."

Madame Giry pulled her daughter into her arms. Her pleas tore at her heart so violently that she was afraid that she would give in. "Ma petite this is the best I can do. I didn't want to tell you this, but the police suspect something is happening. I was caught coming back from the vaults a few nights ago. They will be watching me closely. If I leave right now we will all be suspects and no matter where we go we will be on the run. If you leave there will be less questions."

"Why didn't you tell me," Meg asked.

"Because I didn't want to worry you.I wanted this to be as simple as possible."

Meg looked over Madame's shoulder. She knew that he was waiting."Promise me that you will come to New Orleans as soon as you can."

"I promise," she kissed Meg's forehead. "I love you ma petite."

"I love you Maman," Meg whispered.

Before she could speak Madame Giry dropped her bundle and rushed out of the alley. Meg closed her eyes fighting the urge to run after her. The fear and pain she felt was almost too much to take. Opening her eyes she stared down the dark alley where he waited for her. Breathing deeply she reached down to pick up her bundle with shaking hands. As she made her way towards him she was determined that she wouldn't let him see her fear. When she reached the end of the alley she looked up into his eyes and held out her hand. For moment he seemed to hesitate the look in his eyes was almost nervous. Slowly he reached out and pulled her into the saddle in front of him. Without a word he urged the horse on into the street and out of the city.


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Erik opened his eyes to the crude whitewashed wall of the cabin and turned away in disgust. A soft groan drew his attention to the bed across the cabin. She stirred slightly and rolled onto her stomach, her soft golden hair spilling over her shoulder.

Angelic. That was what she was lying there, her pert little face softened by sleep. It was a clever disguise. Meg Giry was anything but angelic. He knew that she cursed him under her breath when she thought he was asleep. When they were both awake she refused to meet his eye. In the day light she pranced around him with her chin raised affecting what she fancied a womanly posture. But, at night he heard the soft choking sobs from her bed. The sound tore into his ears like a blade. That sudden emotion aroused something in him.

After Christine left he was determined not to feel anything again. It would be better that way. He wanted so to be numb. What good was feeling when it was nothing, but a way to pain? It was a battle that he thought he had won until he saw Meg dancing alone on the stage caught in the soft light of a candle. The passion that had pushed her across the stage that night resonated with him. She was angry and so was he. He had always been aware of her through the years in the opera house. A pretty child, a pretty dancer who was pleasing to watch. But, never before had she pulled on his heart as she had that night. When she stopped and stared out into the theater he felt exposed. She knew he was there. A part of him wanted to reveal himself. But shame and fear drove him back underground. When they met again in the alley way he felt the same rush of feeling looking down into her face. She was angry and afraid. Knowing that he was the reason for her pain kept him silent.

In their night time ride from Paris there was nothing but dark woods and an endless road. After a few hours she had allowed her perfect dancer's posture to slacken and rested against him.

"How long now," she asked. Her voice was rough and weary.

The unexpected break in their silence unsettled him." A day. We will stop somewhere before sunrise."

She said nothing in return, but stared at the road ahead.

Just before dawn they dismounted behind an old barn off the roadside. It was abandoned and would keep them hidden from any passers by until night. Once the doors were closed and bolted she retreated to a small corner and covered herself with her mother's cloak. He paced much of the time, looking out the dusty windows to reassure himself that they weren't being followed. After a few nervous hours he climbed into the dark loft and slept.

Their silences and awkward bursts of conversation continued past their arrival at the ship in Le Havre. Most of their journey had been spent in silence. She spent much of her time walking the decks leaving him alone in their stateroom. He was satisfied with that. After all he had only promised Madame Giry that he would get her to New Orleans and Gilles safely. No more was required of him. In less than a week's time he would never have to bother with her again free to be on his way, alone. He continued to watch her until his eyes grew heavy with sleep.


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Meg's walks along the promenade deck every morning were a necessary luxury. Now that they had sailed into the Gulf of Mexico she left her cloak downstairs grateful for the sunshine and warm breeze. When she finally found a place away from the other passengers she leaned against the rails and gazed out into the endless blue. Closing her eyes, she allowed her senses to drink in the sound of the waves rushing against the boat, the scent of salt and the warmth of the sun on her skin.

"Good morning mademoiselle."

She turned to see a young man standing behind her. Inclining her head she turned her attention back to the sun shot waters. He didn't move on, but walked up beside her and leaned casually against the rails. He was tall and lanky with red hair and skin freckled by endless days in the sun. Smiling and not dissuaded by her cool response he continued trying to make conversation.

"What is your name?"

"Mademoiselle Giry."

"Ah so the gentleman who you are traveling with isn't your husband?"

"No."

"Your brother then? Father? Lover?"

She fixed him with a look that warned him of going any further.

"I apologize mademoiselle. Every day I have seen you walking alone and thought you might enjoy some company. Perhaps you might even tell me your name before we dock."

Something about him drew her in. His smile was honest and she had missed the simple pleasure of conversation. "I apologize in turn for being rude. I'm Meg."

His smile widened as he bowed from the waist, "Jean Hollier."

"So when do you think that we will we reach New Orleans?"

He offered her his arm and led her down the length of the deck. "The captain believes that we will be there by tomorow night. Actually we will be celebrating our arrival with a gathering this evening. We have a few musicians on board and a well monied drunk willing to spare a few bottles of champagne. Perhaps you and your...companion would like to join us?"

She hesitated for a moment. Being able to dance and enjoy the company of other people would be a welcomed change. She missed that and needed it. Immediately she thought of Erik sitting alone in their cabin. Would he be angry? For weeks she had kept to herself for his sake. Now it was time for her to enjoy herself.

"Yes, I'll come."

He was asleep by sunset that evening. Hearing muffled voices and laughter in the hall outside of the other passengers mshe began to ready herself. She pulled her favorite pair of blue stockings out of her travel bag along with the small bottle of lavendar. Lifting her petticoat to her knee she began to slip on the first pale blue stocking. They were the only pair that she had yet to wear out. She ran her hands over the soft, satiny hose feeling more feminine than she had in weeks. As she gently guided it over her leg something made her stop. She turned around slowly to the cot and caught his eye. They held onto eachother with an unflinching gaze until he calmly turned over to face the wall. Hurriedly she pulled on the last stocking with shaking hands and rushed out of the cabin.


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

The unexpected intimacy they had shared raced through her mind as she rushed out of the cabin and down the hallway. The memory of the look in his eyes teased her endlessly. Feelings of excitement and shame seemed to war inside of her.

_Damn him!_

She had spent every day since he had taken her hand in the alley trying to convince herself that she didn't feel anything. Memories of him holding Christine so tightly that last night on the stage flashed in her mind. She had envied Christine, wanted to be in her place at that moment.

_No! He is the reason why the life I loved is over. He disgusts me! I hate him!_

The sound of violins and laughter cut into her thoughts when she reached the ladder that led to the deck. Taking a deep breath she forced herself to smile and began her climb.

Jean was there to met her there with his easy smile and an open hand. "Mademoiselle Giry."

"Good evening," she whispered taking his hand.

He pulled her into the dancing to the fluid tune of a waltz. As they danced thoughts of what had happened below still pursued her. No matter how hard she smiled or tried to listen to Jean's talk she couldn't stop thinking of him. Glasses of champagne were passed around as they each toasted their impending arrival in New Orleans.

"Perhaps I might call on you once you are settled with your uncle," Jean asked.

"Perhaps," she muttered sipping the last of her champagne. Rarely had she ever drank a drop of wine or champagne. There had been times when she and the other dancers had taken quick sips out of bottles left behind in La Carlotta's dressing room.Now she drank every golden drop feeling giddy. For a moment she felt light as air, the way she felt fresh off the stage after a performance.

Jean laughed. "I never took you for a drinker Mademoiselle."

Smiling she held out her glass to have it filled to the top again. They toasted each other, the future and assorted silly things before joining the other passengers for more dancing. The evening passed her in a blur of dance and song. A few hours before sunrise the music stopped and the passengers began to trickle down below. Only she and Jean remained behind looking out over the black silken waters of the Gulf.

He reached out brushing a stray golden strand away from her face. "I'm sorry that we didn't get to know one another sooner."

She smiled and gently pushed his hand away."I enjoyed the evening, really. It has been awhile since I have been able to laugh and enjoy myself."

" As I said before I hope that we will see eachother again after we reach New Orleans. But, now time for bed." He smiled taking her by the hand into the dark hall below. As they walked he moved in closer to her, linking his arm around her waist. She tried to ease herself out of his grasp, but he held onto her even tighter.

"No," she muttered pushing at him.

He pushed her against the wall, his face so close to hers."No? Meg, you have been flirting with me all night. Why are you becoming so shy suddenly?" His hands rushed up her bodice.

"No, I didn't.."

"Oh yes you did," he began picking at the small buttons that dotted her bodice.

"Stop," she pleaded pushing his hands away.

Grabbing hold of her wrists he pinned them behind her back. He tried to silence her with awkward kisses as he pressed his body against hers.

Suddenly he was pulled away causing her to fall back onto the floor. She looked up and saw Erik pinning Jean against the opposite wall, his hand at Jean's throat.

"Listen to me, Erik growled. "If you ever give her so much as a look again I will come after you. Now get out of here." He pushed Jean who quickly stumbled down the hall and out of sight.

Once they were alone he turned back to Meg. She sat slumped against the wall bracing herself. "Meg?"

She didn't answer him and continued to stare at the floor.

Kneeling beside her he reached out gently lifting her chin making her look him in the eye. "Are you alright?"

She nodded mutely.

"Come," he whispered taking her hands in his. With a steady arm around her waist, he guided her to her feet."He won't be bothering you again, I promise you." Slowly they made their way back to the cabin.

After bolting the door he turned to find her sitting on the edge of her bed. Her eyes were shut tightly over the tears that managed to fall onto her face. As he passed her she reached out and grasped his hand in hers.

"I...I'm sorry," Her entire body trembled as she cried. "I'm so sorry."

"There is nothing to be sorry for," he murmured. "I wasn't going to let him hurt you."

As he turned to walk away he heard her whisper,

"Thank you...Erik."


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

They both slept fitfully throughout the day. The constant sounds of excited voices in the hall outside and above reminded them that their month's journey would be ending soon.

The last hours had been difficult and Meg still felt shaken from all that had happened. She turned her head and stared over her pillow at the strong plane of his back covered by the white linen shirt. Having him so close assured her that she was safe. She also felt a pang of regret. All the time they spent together she had treated him with contempt. But, last night he had shown himself to be more of a man than a monster. When she had said she was sorry she meant it and hoped that he accepted it. She watched him stir slightly as his eyes opened then closed again.

"Are you awake," she asked.

He reached up pressing the mask against his face. "Yes. Are you alright?"

"I'm better, but still a bit shaken," she admitted.

"We will leave the ship last," he assured her. "The coward should be long gone by then."

"Tonight when we leave the ship, where will you go?"

He didn't answer right away, but stared up at the cieling."I'm not certain. When I find a place where I can be left in peace then I'll know I've found a home. If that place is in New Orleans I don't know."

"I want to help you if you will let me."

"I don't expect you to. Both you and your mother have done more than enough."

"Please," she persisted."You saved me from God only knows what last night. The least I can do is help you find a safe place to settle yourself."

"I will take care of myself," he insisted. "I will see you to Gilles's home and then be on my way."

"Erik..."

He held up a hand to silence her. "In the meantime I would like to try to get a few more hours sleep. I suggest that you do the same." He turned over closing himself off to any further attempts at what he viewed as charity.

Meg fell back against the pillows in frustration. He may have considered the matter discussed and finished, but she didn't.

* * *

It was night when the ship finally docked at the port of New Orleans. From the small window of their cabin Meg got her first glimpse of the city. Excitement and relief welled up inside of her on seeing the spires of the cathedral and layers of candlelit balconies. 

She turned to Erik who sat quietly on his cot, dressed and waiting. "So we are here."

"Yes," he murmured.

"It will be good to finally stand on solid ground," she said trying to smile. He nodded his head and made no move. She could sense he was unsettled. They were both about to step into a world that neither of them knew. The sound of excited voices and trunks being dragged through the hall continued for an hour after they had docked. Meg continued to look out the window and pace the floor.

"I wish they would hurry," she sighed.

Erik said nothing, but calmly stared at the toe of his dulled black boot. They would be on there way soon enough. Meg continued her vigilant watch at the window for some time until the ship grew quiet.

"I think it's safe now," she whispered over her shoulder.

Erik rose slowly from the cot and picked up their bags, "Let's be on our way then."

Meg grabbed her cloak off the chair and followed Erik to the door. He stopped her as he slowly drove the bolt back and stepped out into the hall.

"Come," he whispered taking her hand.

They made their way down the empty corridor and up the stairs to the deck. Meg looked up at the sky as the milky moon peeked out from behind the clouds. She felt the impatient squeeze of his hand and continued to follow him. With every moment her nervousness grew. The relief she had felt was now muddied by fear. Would her uncle agree to help Erik or would he expose him to the police? Perhaps she should let him go his way.

As they stepped onto the dock she stopped him. "You don't have to take me to my uncle's home. I understand if you want to be on your way."

"I promised your mother that I would get you to your uncle's home safely. You are too young to walk the streets at night on your own."

"I'm going to be 18 in a few weeks," she argued.

What looked like a smile touched his lips. "Eighteen or 80, I won't allow you to go off on your own." He took her hand and led her off the dock and out of the ship yard.

Her first taste of the city was a long avenue lined with gas lights and the sound of music floating out through open cafe doors. In the dark her surroundings reminded her of home. They were passed by well dressed couples and streetwalkers who offered Erik favors for a glance at what he was hiding under his mask. He stopped at the invitation of a petite red head dressed in a tattered blue dress.

Meg grabbed hold of his arm."What are you doing?"

Reaching into his coat he pulled out a slip of paper and handed the streetwalker two gold pieces. "Would you happen to know the way to Rue Dauphine?"

She seemed surprised, but took Erik's offering with a quick and greedy hand. "Take the street behind us, Saint Anne, down past the Rue Royal and Bourbon then you will find Dauphine."

Erik inclined his head, "Merci mademoiselle."

"Pleasure monsieur. Are you certain that there is nothing _else _that I could do for you?." She purred running a confident hand over the sating lapel of his coat.

Erik shook his head and quickly led Meg away.

"Is there nothing _else _that I could do for you," Meg mocked the girl under her breath.

"You are acting like a prim convent girl rather than a _Parisienne_," Erik whispered.

"Shouldn't I be offended by a girl like that?"

"She didn't proposition _you_ did she?"

Meg rolled her eyes."Forget I said anything. How much longer until we reach my uncle's home?"

Erik looked up at the sign post of the Rue Royal. "According to our guide it should only be two streets over."

"Good," she whispered.

They passed the Rue Bourbon and then reached Dauphine. The street was quiet and lined with well kept homes tiered with wrought iron balconies that dripped with flowered vines.

Erik looked down at the scrap of paper with the address Madame Giry had given him. "It should be 111 Rue Dauphine."

They continued their walk until they came to a grey two story home marked with 111.

"This is it," Meg said looking up at the dimly lit French windows.

"So it seems," he whispered.

They looked at eachother struggling with their goodbyes. He gently dropped her hand and held out her satchel.

"I hope that all goes well for you here. Again, thank you and your mother for all that you have done." Before he could turn away Meg grabbed hold of his hand.

"Please don't go."

"I have to."

"I'm not going to let you leave without finding you a safe place to stay."

"No..."

She quickly rapped on the door and waited. A few moments later the door was opened by a young caramel skinned woman.

"Bon soir." She smiled at Meg, but shot a curious look at Erik.

"I'm Meg Giry, Monsiuer Galatoire's niece."

Her light eyes widened in recognition, " Ah oui, please come in."

Meg pulled Erik into the vestibule as the maid closed the door. "I'll go upstairs and let Monsieur Gilles know that you are here." She rushed up the stairs leaving them alone.

"Thank you for staying," she whispered."I wouldn't have felt at ease if I had let you leave."

"It really would be best if I leave."

"When will you realize that I never will accept your refusal?" she smiled up at him like a child who had won a game.

"Meg!"

They turned and saw Gilles rushing down the stairs with open arms. He caught Meg up in a fierce embrace.

"Thank God you are alright," his whispered kissing her cheek.

"Yes, and in one piece," she laughed.

Gilles looked over his niece's head at Erik who stood next to the door. He stepped around her and offered Erik a hand of welcome. "Erik."

He shook Gilles' hand."It's been a long time."

"Ten years at least," Gilles said. "Thank you for making certain that she arrived here safely."

"It was what I promised your sister. I was about to take my leave..."

"And I was telling Erik that he will be staying," Meg interrupted.

Gilles linked his arm around her slender shoulder, "Of course. You are welcome to stay here until you are ready to move on."

Erik looked Gilles and then at Meg. The hope in her eyes silenced any refusal. "Very well. I'll stay the night, but will be on my way tomorow."

"Lysette," Gilles called over shoulder.

The young woman who had greeted them appeared at the top of the stairs. "Monsieur?"

"Please prepare another room for another guest. Also, have Auguste bring up two dinner trays."

"Right away," she fixed Gilles with a pretty smile and disappeared around the corner.

He turned back to Meg & Erik with what seemed a somewhat embarassed look. "Why don't you both follow me and we will get you settled."

* * *

A soft knock at the door sent Erik to grab his mask off of the bedside table. He slipped it on with practiced ease. 

"Yes?"

The door opened as Gilles stepped inside. "I came to see if you had everything that you needed."

"Yes, again I thank you for your hospitality."

Gilles closed the door behind him and took a seat across from Erik."I'm well aware of what happened in Paris."

Erik's eyes darted nervously around the room. "I suspected that you had."

"What the hell were you thinking," Gilles hissed. "My sister and I spent years trying to keep you safe and you repay us by risking everything for some pretty faced child!"

"I don't want to discuss _her_!"

Gilles fell silent as the anger drained from his face.

Erik closed his eyes. "Please understand that I never meant to hurt either you or your sister. What I did...I'm going to have to live with that for the rest of my life."

"I know you will," Gilles countered. "However, I have no desire to add more pain to your life. Like Meg I'm not comfortable with sending you away. People here in Louisiana are no kinder to strangers than they are in Paris. In fact all the voodoo and superstitious nonsense makes people even more skittish."

"I understand. But, I can't continue to rely on you and your family for protection," Erik argued.

"What if I offered you a home in a secluded area where you would have your privacy?"

"I would tell you that I don't think there is such a place."

"It's an old home 10 miles north of the city on 100 acres. The property is bordered by a high stone gate and the house itself is far enough from the road to ensure you a good measure of privacy. I seldom go there, so consider it a refuge."

"Why are you doing this Gilles," Erik asked.

"Because you did both myself and my sister a great service by seeing Meg here. You did not have to. We both know that you had a chance to flee Paris and go anywhere in the world that you wanted." Gilles rose from his chair and laid a hand on Erik's shoulder. "And also because I remember a dirty, scared, beaten boy who once needed a friend. If he still has need of one, I'm here."

"Thank you," Erik whispered.

"Sleep well mon ami."


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

A lazy smile stretched across Meg's face at the feeling of the cool, soft cotton sheets against her skin and the soft pillow cradling her head. It was a welcome change from the small rickety cot that she slept on the last month. Yet, for the comfort she felt, she missed Erik's presence. She knew that he would be leaving that morning to settle in the old house outside the city.

_Why should I care anyway? He will be safe, and that is what I promised Mama._

She rolled out of the mahogany four poster bed and went to the armoire to dress. Her uncle had asked her to let the maids see to her needs, but she found the idea slightly silly. She had been dressing herself since she was 5 years old. Why would she need help now? When she opened her stachel she found her pair of blue stocking neatly rolled into a ball. Holding the silky hose in her hand returned her to that moment and to the feelings the look in his eyes had aroused in her. Quickly she dropped the stockings into the satchel and shoved it into a drawer.

* * *

He woke up, his chest tight with emotion. Her face. Her voice. The look of abject pity she gave him before she turned and walked away from him forever. Closing his eyes he fell back against the pillows exhausted by his emotions.

_Damn you Christine._

Every night she seemed to wait for him at the door of his dreams. No matter how many times he begged her to leave she stood firm, her hand outstretched, his ring cradled in her palm.

_You never loved me. How could I have been so foolish to believe that you could? _

The tears pooled in his eyes and he wiped them away furiously.

_When will this end? When will I stop seeing your face when I close my eyes?_

He tore the sheets away from his body and hurried into his clothes. Within moments he was standing in the open door way, catching his breath.

"Good morning."

He turned on his heel to see Meg dressed and fresh faced.

"Morning," he murmured.

"Did you sleep well?"

He hesitated and nodded his head. "As well as could be expected."

It was obvious that he was unsettled and distracted. She forced herself to smile. "Uncle Gilles told me about the house outside the city. It sounds like the perfect place for you."

"For now. Only time will tell if I can remain there."

She tried to ignore the hope that fluttered inside her. "If that is what you choose, I am happy for you. Will you have breakfast with us before you leave?"

"No, I should be on my way. After all I am eager to see the house."

"I see."

He inclined his head and walked past her to the head of the stairs. There he stopped and turned back to her. "Thank you again, for all you have done. And if you are ever close by, you are welcomed."

The smile she gave him was like the sunlight that shone through the window behind her. "I would like that."

"Good," he whispered."Goodbye Meg."

Before she could say anything more he was gone.

* * *

Erik's first glimpse of the Louisiana countryside was from the security of Gilles' carriage. There was a dark, almost eerie kind of beauty to the land. The trees were swathed with moss and untamed brush shot up from the marsh. The warm air carried unusual scents and sounds that kept him entranced during the lengthy journey. Gilles had instructed his coachman to drive at a steady pace so as not to attract too much attention to the carriage and it's passenger. It was the late afternoon when they met a long grey wall of stone. The followed it around a bend and drove through a black cast iron gate.

_Perfect._

The gate, the thick walls of trees were exactly as Gilles had promised. After the last bend in the lane, the house appeared. It was made of pale stone in the Spanish style with wrought iron balconies and flagstoned walk ways.Gilles has acquired it from an old creole family who left for Mexico after the war.

"We have arrived monsieur," the driver called out to him as the carriage came to a halt.

Erik slowly emerged and made his way up the path bordered by overgrown brush. He could see that the grounds and the house itself had been deserted for quite some time. At the end of the path was a stone archway that led him into a courtyard. At the center was a fountain overtaken by weeds that grew through the cracks in the flagstone. The paint on the walls was cracked and the windows were dirty or broken. The neglect he faced him made him bristle with disgust. Despite his initial dissapointment he was grateful to be standing there in the warmth of the afternoon sun rather than dead in a darken catacomb. He walked back to the entryway and waved the driver on. With a tip of his hat the driver urged the chesnuts off down the pathway and out of Erik's sight.

_So I am finally alone._

Erik went back inside and continued his introduction to this new life.

* * *

"No!" Lysette shook her head emphatically.

Gilles grasped her hand, his eyes pleading. "I need you to do this for me. He is my friend and I want someone there who I can trust."

She narrowed her crystalline eyes and shook off his touch. "Why not send Amelie or Auguste?"

"Because I don't trust them!"

"Liar," she hissed.

He reached out, taking hold of her slender shoulders. "Lysette, you have always said that you would do anything I asked of you. _Anything._ Now, I need you to keep to your word."

"Don't try to make me feel like I haven't proven my loyalty to you! I have been with you for five years Gilles! I have cooked, kept your home and shared your bed when you asked! Why do you want to send me away?"

He pressed his forehead to hers, caressing her shoulders with gentle fingers. "I _trust_ you. There is no other reason why I am asking this of you. It will only be for a little while."

"Gilles..."

He quieted her protest with a soft kiss. "Once he is settled I will send for you. So again I am asking you to please say yes."

She looked into his eyes, knowing that she couldn't refuse. Never in the five years she had known Gilles Galatoire had she ever been willing to tell him 'no'.

"Alright," she whispered. "I will leave in the morning."


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

_Pirouette...pirouette...lightly...lightly_

Meg could hear Madame Giry's crisp commands as cleary as if she were standing beside her. Every afternoon she closed herself up in her bedroom, rolled the cream woven rug off the polished floor to dance. It was the only diversion she had from the loneliness that followed her throughout the last three days. When she was able to get away from Gilles and the prying eyes of the maids she allowed herself to cry.But, once she became sick of tears she pulled on her battered satin slippers and gave herself up to her dancing.

The steps to the slave dance in _Hannibal_ were still fresh in her mind. She loved the dance. Unlike most of the ballets she had performed it was lively and sensual. Turning out of a step she threw her head back closing her eyes. Immediately his face appeared like a spark that immediately ignited the memory of that one encounter. He didn't have to touch her to stir the secret feelings inside her. That one look between them had been enough. She continued to dance with quick, determined steps fighting the memory of his eyes and of her feelings.

A brisk knocking at the door sent her stumbling out of a step.

_Damn it! _

Meg caught her breath. "Come in."

Gilles strode through the door, dressed in an elegant dove gray suit with an ornamental cane in hand. He stopped casting a quizzical look at the rolled up carpet and the pink, bruised slippers on her feet. "I can see that I am interrupting something."

She brushed the light mist of sweat from her forehead. "No. I was just trying to amuse myself."

He chuckled. "Yes, pacing up and down the halls does get boring after awhile which is why I am here. May I persuade you to forsake your recluse's vow and come on a carriage ride?"

Meg hesitated. "I don't know if I am up to going out."

Gilles shook his head and smiled. "I have given you a week now it is time for you to start living again. However if you enjoy seclusion the sisters at the convent of St. Ursuline are in search of novices."

"Don't be ridiculous," she laughed.

"Then don't make me beg mademoiselle."

He was right. She couldn't keep herself closed up in that house thinking about Erik or what may have passed between them on the ship. That time was over now. No doubt he was enjoying his new home and not giving her a single thought.

"Alright, I'll go," she sat down on the chaise and unlaced her slippers. "So what has happened to Lysette? She didn't come up to pull me out of bed this morning."

"She's gone to help Erik settle into the old house. He left so quickly that I didn't have the time to tell him what a mess it is."

"Oh. So she went alone?"

"Yes, but don't worry she will be back soon," he replied strolling to the door. "I'll wait for you downstairs."

Once the door closed behinde him Meg kicked her slippers aside. Lysette, with her long, glossy black hair and full lips alone in the middle of the countryside with Erik. The thought unsettled her. She had watched Lysette saunter in and out of the house swaying her hips and smiling sweetly at every man that crossed her path. Thoughts of her linking her slender, caramel arms around his neck and he pulling her against him raced through her mind.

She shut her eyes tightly trying to ward it off. "Enough."

After all if Erik chose to fall into Lysette's arms, she couldn't do anything to stop that. But, as she changed into a fresh dress she couldn't help feeling that she would do anything to stop it.

* * *

Lysette walked into the courtyard swatting at the mosquitoes that buzzed around her head. It reminded her why she detested country living.

"Hello," she called out into the courtyard. "Monsieur Erik?"

"Who is it !" the menace in his tone caused her to step back.

"It is Lysette. Monsieur Gilles sent me out here to help." She looked around her at the weeds and cracked window panes. "From the look of things it seems that you do need quite a bit of it."

With the loud groan of aged hinges, two doors opened and Erik stepped outside to meet her. "Come in then."

Lysette didn't move, but tipped her head in the direction of the archway. Erik followed her eyes to two large leather trunks sitting in the entrance. "I'm afraid that Gilles's coachmen isn't that much of a gentleman."

Without a word Erik walked past her to the trunks and with some effort dragged one and then the other into the sitting room behind her.

Lysette looked around the room that was pitifully bare with the exception of a chair pulled close to the fireplace. She noticed an old faded blanket lying next to it on the floor. "Don't tell me you spent the night in that chair."

"I did what was necessary mademoiselle," he replied tersely.

"I see that Gilles failed to mention that there are no beds." She closed her eyes and shook her head. "I don't know why I'm surprised. Gilles never seems to think about what is practical. Perhaps there are pieces of furniture hidden in the attic or the stables."

"The stables?"

"Oui. During the war many of the plantation owners burried their belongings or hid them in odd places from the Union soldiers. They occupied the city and this area for quite some time." She knelt down by one of the trunks and pulled it open. Inside were layers of coats, trousers and linen shirts. "Gilles sent these for you as well. Even if you have to sleep on the floor at least you will be fashionably dressed."

Erik couldn't help but smile to himself. For all her clucking about Gilles's carelessness affection laced her words. He stood quietly aside as she opened the second trunk filled with vegetables, fruit and cookery. In an odd way he was glad for the company though it wasn't the company that he had hoped for when he heard the carriage riding up the drive.

"Is Meg well?"

"I haven't seen much of her in the last few days." She glanced up at Erik and saw the look of concern on his face. "Don't worry I'm sure that she is fine. Gilles has made it his mission to get her acquainted with the city."

* * *

The moment Meg stepped down from Gilles's open carriage the curiosity of the tony Creole society was piqued. Had Gilles Galatoire finally sent his colored mistress away in favor of the _jolie blonde _on his arm? Gilles sensed Meg's uneasiness at the attention she was attracting. The curious glances and whispers followed in their wake as they strolled down the Rue Royale.

"You have just been introduced to society," he chuckled. "By tonight you will be the topic of dinner conversations around the Quarter."

"Why should they care," Meg asked in annoyance.

"Because you are a fresh face. The old quarter gaurd love a good mystery. Ah here we are."

They stopped at a storefront, it's windows displayed bolts of colorful silks and creamy lace. With a jab of his cane Gilles gestured to the sign that hung overhead.

Etched in fine gold lettering was,

**LA MAISON GALATOIRE **_Fine fabrics & tailoring _

"So this is your kingdom," Meg mused.

"My empire," he laughed opening the French door to her. "Entre!"

She walked through the door and entered what looked more like a Parisian salon than a store. Every window was swathed with deep blue satin drapes, the floors were covered with finely woven rugs and an obscenely grand crystal chandelier dripped from the cieling overhead.

"This wasn't what I expected," Meg quickly stepping from underneath the chandelier.

"You were expecting dirt floors and a counter," he chuckled. "Most people do when they arrive in New Orleans from Europe. Marie Annette!"

"Monsieur," a willowy red head dressed in pale, yellow satin emerged from the store room.

"Meg, this is the city's most gifted _couturier _Mademoiselle Marie Annette Du Plante."

She extended a pale, slender hand in welcome. "So good to meet you Mademoiselle Giry. Gilles has been talking about your arrival for weeks."

"It's good to meet you as well," Meg replied.

The tinkering of the bell at the door sent Marie Annette rushing past them. "Ah Madame Auberge!"

Gilles and Meg exchanged rolling eyes and laughed.

"She is a bit excited when customers arrive," he whispered.

"So it seems," Meg laughed. She turned to watch Marie Annette flitter around the older, richly dressed woman. The door opened once again as both women turned around to greet the young man that walked through the door. He removed his hat revealing cropped red hair and a sly smile.

"Marie Annette, this is my nephew Jean ," Madame Auberge announced.

_It was him_.

Meg turned quickly and rushed to the safety of the storeroom. Her heart was beating so hard she thought it would shatter.From behind the heavy velvet curtain she watched as he kissed Marie Annette's hand and accepted a handshake from Gilles. Seeing them greet him as if he were a decent gentleman disgusted her.

"It's good to meet you Monsieur. _Tante _Rose and my Uncle speak very highly of you," he said to Gilles.

"That is kind. I hope that you are enjoying New Orleans."

"It's a different world granted, but I am enjoying it. Being caught on a ship for a month was well worth it. I arrived four days ago."

"_Quelle coincidence_! My niece arrived from the continent four days ago as well. Let me introduce you to her."

Gilles excused himself and walked to the storeroom. He wasn't certain why she had rushed out of the salon. In a way he was embarassed by it. Madame Auberge was once of his wealthiest patrons. She was also inclined to remember slights and to spread her offense around town.

"Meg?"

There was no answer. He pushed the curtain back and walked into the storeroom to find the back gallery doors open.

She was gone.


	9. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

When Gilles called for her the fear of being in the same room with Jean drove her out of the storeroom and onto the back gallery. When she rushed outside she found no way out, only a stone wall.

"Meg?"

She turned to the doorway as Gilles came out to meet her. "What are you doing out here? Didn't you hear when I called for you?"

"Yes and I'm sorry..."

"Nevermind that, come out and meet Madame Auberge and her nephew. She's one of my best patrons and I don't want her to think you have slighted her."

"I didn't mean to do that. But..."

"Shhh no more excuses, you are going to come with me and be polite!" Gilles pulled her behind him through the storeroom and into the salon. "My apologies Madame."

Madame Auberge looked Meg over with a curious eye and smiled. "Not at all Gilles. I was a shy young girl myself once. Come closer _cherie_."

Gilles gave her a gentle nudge and she reluctantly stepped forward to meet them. "It's good to meet you Madame." For a moment she forced herself to look at Jean. He wouldn't meet her eye, but stood beside his aunt his eyes flickering nervously around the salon.

"It is a pleasure to meet you as well. My husband and I have known your Uncle for years. Since you and Jean are new to the city we should all have supper together soon."

"Of course," Gilles quickly agreed. "Let us have it at my home. Would you and Monsieur be free for supper Thursday evening?"

Jean tried to speak, but was interrupted by his aunt. "Absolutely! We shall look forward to it won't we Jean?"

He gave Meg the briefest look of apology before replying. "Yes...thank you for...your kind invitation Monsieur Galatoire."

"Then it is settled," Gilles said. "Now, Madame I'll hand you over to Marie Annette for your fitting."

Marie Annette stepped forward, her prior look of impatience transformed into an eager smile as she led Madame Auberge and Jean into the adjoining room. Once they were alone Gilles dealt her a light kiss on her forehead.

"You did well. Madame Auberge seemed to approve of you. That is a first step to being introduced to the best people in the city."

Meg smiled weakly. "Would you please take me home?"

"To home already? I thought we might take a ride to Cafe DuMonde for a cup of Cafe Au Lait," he offered.

Meg shook her head. "No, I'd prefer to go back."

"So you have had enough excitement already? You are simply dull, " he teased and offered her his arm.

As they walked through the salon she caught sight of Jean seated outside the fitting room door. Again, he offered her what seemed like a look of apology. She turned her head away trying to hide the angry tears that welled up in her eyes as they passed him by.

* * *

From a shady corner of the second floor balcony, Erik watched the day slip away. He listened to the soft sounds of the approaching evening; the soft chirpping of crickets and the distant call of an owl. For the first time in years he felt completely safe. It was a feeling that he wanted to relish and remained on the balcony until Lysette found him.

"Supper is ready Monsieur Erik."

"In a moment," he murmured gazing up at the open sky. It had been ages since he had seen so many stars.

"You seem happy," she said.

Happy? It was a curious word. It had always belonged to others, but never to him. "Not happy so much as grateful. Very grateful."

"Well your dinner will be _very_ cold if you don't come downstairs now."

"Give me just a few moments, please," he asked.

"Alright," she smiled and left him alone.

Looking up at the sky again, he leaned against the wrought iron railing. Once more, Meg drifted into his thoughts. All the days that they had been hiding on the ship he had looked foward to the day when she would no longer be pinned to him. Memories pursued him of those nights he had watched over her from his side of the cabin as she slept and the way she looked when he left her. And yes, that night he had allowed himself to cross the line. He gave in entertaining thoughts of the soft flash of creamy skin and the look in her eyes when she realized that he was watching her. He would have expected horror, but she took him by surprise, matching his look of unexpected fascination with boldness. Looks of fear and pity were what he had experienced through the eyes of women, but nothing like this.

He caught his breath and pushed back at thoughts that tempted his imagination to go further. No, he couldn't allow himself to feel that way again. Meg Giry was just a girl and he was a man who had already lost himself because of passion.

"Never again," he whispered and turned his back on the night.


	10. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

They stared at one another through the soft glow of candlelight. To everyone else seated at the long mahogany table they were both strangers. They both smiled and laughed at the right moments with no hint of the secret shame that silently taunted them.

Meg watched the ornate clock on the wall waiting for the moment that Madame Auberge would decide to relieve them of her company. The hours rolled by and with the help of several crystal glasses of wine she droned on until after ten o' clock. With Gilles' steady arm she was led to the sitting room where open windows afforded her air and some sobriety. As she continued her babbling narrative on how the "Americans" had taken over the city, Meg excused herself and walked onto the balcony.

"Would you mind if I joined you?"

She looked over her shoulder at Jean and lifted her shoulders. "Do I have a choice?"

He met her at the end of the balcony keeping a careful distance between them. "Will you believe me if I said how sorry I am for what happened?"

"I barely knew you a day when you tried to force yourself on me. How can I ever believe anything you say?"

"I don't expect you to trust me implicitly. All I ask is that you be open to my apology," he said.

"If you are afraid that I'm going to run to your Aunt and tell her what happened I won't. All I want to do is forget it ever happened."

"No Meg, that isn't why I want to apologize. I...," he stopped himself and thrust a hand through his hair. "I truly feel ashamed. We both drank too much champagne and I allowed my feelings to overcome my manners."

"You make it all sound so genteel," she scoffed.

"Please listen to me Meg," he pleaded."All the things I said to you that night were true. I wanted to get to know you. I still do. But, I realize now that it may not be possible. You have every right to feel the way you do about what I did that night. All I ask is that you give me a chance to prove that I'm not that fool."

She could hear the regret in his voice and see the shame in his eyes when she looked at him. Did he mean what he was saying? A part of her wanted to believe it, yet she hesitated. "I don't know. Perhaps one day I'll feel more forgiving, but not right now."

"Jean!"

"Coming," he called out and turned back to Meg. "That is all I'm asking."

"Jean!"

He grasped her hand and pressed it to his lips. "I will see you again."

* * *

The first three weeks passed Erik by in a blur. Rather than lead the life of a country gentleman he was put to work by Lysette opening up old rooms and pulling up weeds in the garden. Gilles continued to send food and pieces of furniture by his coachman every few days. With Lysette's help the old house slowly became a comfortable home. Erik no longer slept on the floor and there was always a warm meal on the table. During their first days they only spoke when necessary. But, as the weeks wore on they began to seek each other out for company. Their talks never ventured beyond the house and the improvements that Erik wanted to make. She never asked more and he never volunteered more. But, one evening over supper Lysette ended their unspoken understanding.

"Tell me, what did you do when you were living in France," she asked him.

He stared down at his plate, his mind racing for an answer. "I was a musician."

She raised her brows. "A musician, eh? I would have taken you for a _financier_."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because you are dull and not like the musicians I have known," she quipped.

A slight smile teased the corners of his lips. "Well for a maid, you are a bit too bold."

She grinned at him across the table. "I simply enjoy conversation. What instrument do you play?"

"Piano and the violin."

"Why didn't you bring your violin with you?"

"It was taken while we were on the ship."

"How do you know Mademoiselle Giry?"

"I am a friend of her mother's."

"I see. Why didn't Madame Giry make the trip?

"She had other matters to attend to in Paris," he answered wearily.

From the smile on her face he could tell that she enjoyed this. He also knew that she was a clever woman and that nothing escaped her notice.

"Gilles sent me a note with the last delivery of food," she said taking a sip of wine. "He _and _Mademoiselle are going to be paying us a visit this Saturday."

Erik fought not to betray himself at the mention of Meg. "Good. I have been wanting Gilles to see the progress that we have made on the house."

"And I'm certain that Mademoiselle Giry will be impressed as well."

He pushed his chair away from the table, "Supper was delicious. Now if you will excuse me, I'm going to bed."

"_Bon soir _Monsieur," she called over her shoulder.

She smiled to herself, savoring the last of her wine and the knowledge that she had given the dour mystery man something to look forward to.


	11. Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Meg felt a pointed ache inside watching the dancers float across the stage in their pristine satin slippers. She almost felt imprisoned in Gilles's opera box, tracing the sweeping rhythm with her toes under the blue silk of her gown. It was her first visit to the city's famed French Opera House. Gilles had decided to take her to see the company's first perforamance of Gounod's _Faust_ as a gift for her 18th birthday. At first she had been excited and counted down the days until they finally took their seats on the second tier overlooking the stage. But, once the lights were dimmed and the company appeared a feeling of sadness overtook her. It reminded her how much she missed her life at the _Opera Populaire_. She missed the excitement of dancing on stage in the open, allowing the music to sweep her up in its melody.

"Are you enjoying it?"

She looked over at Gilles and smiled. "Yes, it's wonderful."

He patted her hand and raised his opera glasses scouring the crowd for his clientele. Meg couldn't supress a smirk as she watched him smile and incline his head at Madame Auberge and the other society hens. In the past weeks she had met or had suffered through long suppers with most of them. Gilles always reminded her that she was being watched and that her reputation was his reputation. She felt as if she were being slowly drowned by life in this fishbowl. There was not one moment that she felt she could come up for air. Everywhere she turned there were curious eyes and questions about her past. Gilles had asked that she not let anyone know about her past as a dancer. His demand cut her to the quick. She had never felt ashamed of who she was or what she did as a dancer. Sitting there watching the dancers in free flight, she wondered if leaving Paris had been a mistake.

* * *

From behind the red velvet curtain of Madame Auberge's box, Jean watched Meg. He hadn't spoken to her since their talk on the balcony. But, he had made a habit of passing by Gilles's home every day hoping for the chance to see her. Throughout the evening he watched her face intently. He adored the way she allowed herself to be completely taken by what was happening on the stage. Every minute his desire for her made him burn. Thoughts of her in his arms, his fingers twisted up in her buttery locks teased him. It didn't matter that his aunt had introduced him to every pretty face in the city, he couldn't get Meg out of his mind. What would have happened that night on the ship if she had given into him? Suddenly thoughts of the masked man surfaced chasing all of his fantasies away. The memory of being pinned to a wall and then chased away made him burn with resentment and shame.

_If I ever see that freak again_, he silently vowed,_ I'll show him. I'll make him wish he never met me..._

* * *

"You are very quiet this evening," Gilles commented as they rode back to the house on Rue Dauphine.

Meg turned her attention from the city outside the carriage window. "I suppose keeping to oneself is not an acceptable social virtue."

"So you are still angry with me?"

"I think you know that I am. Why bother asking?"

He smiled in a way that spoke of his refusal to take her seriously. To him she was a child with no common sense. "You need to understand that New Orleans is not Paris. Society is different here! Being a dancer in Paris is "charming", but here it is a liability. If my clients knew that you were a dancer, that would damage the reputation of my business. I thought you understood that."

"So when Maman arrives here, you are going to make her lie as well," she shot back.

"Your Maman understands what the real world is like. She knows in order to survive that she has to put her life in Paris behind her."

Meg looked out of the window trying to hide the tears welling up in her dark eyes. Gilles slid closer to her encircling her in his arms.

"Meg, please believe me. I would never hurt you. But, this is how it has to be if you and your Maman are going to live a good life here. I do not want either of you to suffer any kind of rejection or humiliation. I am doing this to protect you," he kissed her forehead then reached into his pocket for his cigar case. "By the way, I am going out to the country to pay a visit to Erik tomorow."

Meg looked up at him, the hardness in her face softened. "Really?"

"Yes and I would love to have your company. But, there is a condition."

"Which is...?"

"Which is that you must forgive me for being pompus and overprotective," he grinned at her and lit his cigar.

A smile spread slowly across her face. "You are forgiven then."


	12. Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Lysette eyes opened at the sound of footfall in the corridor. She glanced at the little ornamental clock next to her bed and saw that it was past two in the morning.

_So he was up again..._

Every night since she had arrived he observed the same nightly ritual. First there was dinner after sunset, followed by hours of self imposed seclusion in his room ending with a nightly walk around the grounds. She knew that he slept very little at night because of nightmares. The cries from his bedroom were heartwrenching. There was more behind his mask than just a face. There was a damaged soul hiding a past that was devastating and cruel. Yes, they had lived in different worlds and had both been enslaved by the ignorance of men. The difference was that she was now free while he remained in bondage. From her window she watched him wrap himself up in a dark cloak stalking down the footpath that led into the gradens behind the house.

* * *

He walked the grounds with quick, determined steps and stopped only when the house was out of his sight. There were times he felt like the walls around him were closing in. The peace he found in the daylight seemed to slip away in the darkness of his bedroom. Only when he was outside alone could he truly breathe. He walked under the lush shelter of an aged oak tree and rested against the trunk, listening to the soft serenade of the night around him. It had become his nightly ritual and he observed it with the fervor of a man rendevouzing with a mistress. Every night he came to that place allowing clinging remnants of his dreams to pass away.  
The first nights had been the most difficult. He would wake with the image of Christine's face and the feeling of brokeness clinging to his soul. But, as time passed the visions of Christine began to blur and pain gave way to acceptance. Christine Daae was gone from his life forever. She had made her choice and he was not a part of it. Had she ever loved him? Perhaps for a moment she had felt some love for him in her innocent heart. But, he knew now that she would never be able to love him the way he needed and wanted to be loved. He wasn't the angel she had been promised, he was simply Erik.  
There were only three people who had known and accepted him for who he truly was.

One of them was Meg Giry...

* * *

Through the part in the curtains Meg watched the moon chase the clouds across the night sky. Sleep seemed determined to avoid her company that night leaving her wide awake with her thoughts. Seeing Erik again would be a relief after weeks of being surrounded by strangers. As she lay there she began thinking of how her feelings towards him had changed from fear, to resentment and finally to gratitude. He had protected her from so much during their journey and she would never forget that. Yet, there was more stirring in her than just gratitude. Everytime she met with this emotion she flirted with it allowing herself to revisit that one night on the ship. The way he had looked at her made her feel like she was no longer just a girl in his eyes. Finally she knew what it was like to look into the eyes of a man and be seen as more than just a "pretty child". She wondered if he ever thought about what had passed between them. A part of her was afraid that he hadn't and that she had been relishing it in vain. She turned her face back to the moonlight and continued to wonder. 


	13. Chapter 12

Chapter 13

"Monsieur Erik, they are here!"

Lysette's call sent Erik from his bed to the window overlooking the drive below. He watched Gilles spring out of the carriage and offer his hand to Meg. He expected to see Meg as she had always been, dressed in a girl's frock with her hair caught up in a simple satin ribbon. The young woman who stepped down from the carriage was no girl. Under the brim of a hat dressed with silk lilacs were rouged lips and a slender waist sinched tightly in a pale dress of lavender. In spite of himself he couldn't take his eyes off of her. He continued to watch from behind the curtain as Lysette dashed through the gate to greet them. Gilles immediately fell into step beside her leaving Meg to follow at a pace behind them.  
Erik began to back away from the window when he noticed that Meg had stopped at the gate. Suddenly she raised her eyes to the window where he stood half hidden behind the heavy velvet curtain. A knowing smile slowly spread across her face. He felt an odd mixture of thrill and shame that kept him welded to the window. With her eyes still fixed on him she walked through the gate and out of his sight.

* * *

She knew that he wouldn't reveal himself to them right away. Despite her burning impatience she took a seat in the sparsely furnished sitting room pretending to be interested in Lysette's chatter of the progress she and Erik had made on the house.  
"I had him pull up the weeds in the courtyard on the first day while I worked on getting the pantry cleaned out and stocked."  
"You are a rigid taskmistress," Gilles chuckled.  
"On the contrary,she is not as rigid as she seems."  
They turned around to see Erik standing in the doorway. Meg felt a surge of relief. He was a far sight from the gaunt and tired man that she remembered.  
Gilles rushed to Erik with an open hand."Both you and Lysette have worked a miracle with this place. And you are looking better these days."  
He glanced over Gilles's shoulder at Meg as he spoke. "Thank you. I am glad that you both have finally come to see progress for yourselves."  
"Speaking of progress," Gilles said turning to Meg. "I have been busied with getting this young woman accustomed to Quarter life."  
"Indeed," Erik murmured inclining his head to Meg. "Your transformation has surprised me Mademoiselle."  
Again, she favored him with the same knowning smile. "It seems that you went through a transformation as well."  
"Obviously Lysette's cooking agrees with him," Gilles said smiling at Lysette. "Now why don't you take us on a tour of the rest of the house?"  
"Of course. We have painted the walls upstairs and repaired most of the windows," Lysette said.  
Erik stood aside allowing Gilles and Lysette out of the sitting room. He expected Meg to follow them, but she stopped at the door. She said nothing at first and gazed up at him from underneath the soft lavendar netting of her hat.  
"I am glad to see you," she whispered.  
He said nothing, but clasped her hand and softly brushed it with his lips.  
"Monsieur Erik!" Lysette's call from upstairs sent Erik out the door leaving Meg to burn in silence.

* * *

After dinner on the gallery Lysette began to clear the china off the table. Gilles lit one of his treasured cigars as Meg leaned over the stone balustrade overlooking the gardens. Explosions of pink, red and cream blossoms filled the unkempt flower beds and cracked marble urns below.  
"You have a beautiful jungle," she said looking over her shoulder at Erik.  
He chuckled softly, "Yes, it's a beautiful mess."  
"I would like to see more of it," she said.  
Erik rose from his seat, ready to offer her his arm. But, the faint aroma of Gilles's cigar caused him to stop. "Would you like to accompany us on a walk?"  
"No thank you, I am enjoying the view from where I am at," Gilles said. "You both feel free to go on without me."  
Meg quickly took hold of Erik's arm, "We won't be long."  
"Take your time cherie," he said waving them on.  
When they disapeared down the stairs Gilles stood up from his chair and went in search of Lysette.

* * *

"Now that you know what my life has been like this last month, why don't you tell me of yours," he asked.  
Meg laughed, "Well I haven't had the pleasure of pulling up weeds or painting walls. Mostly I have been shuffled from one boring dinner after another. Uncle Gilles has made it his mission to turn me into a lady. My reputation is his reputation, he says."  
The resentment in her voice said much. "Are you happy there?"  
She hesitated. "Uncle Gilles has been good to me and I'm grateful."  
"Gratitude isn't the same as happiness," he countered.  
She gave him a weary look. "What do you want me to say?"  
"I do not mean to interrogate you," he explained. "I just want to know if you are well and happy."  
She could see the concern in his eyes. "I'm fine, you don't need to worry."  
"I would rather you be happy than fine and grateful."  
"Perhaps in time, I will be happy there, but not right now."  
Their conversation tapered away to silence as they walked the footpath out of the gardens and into the oak lined trail. The warm breeze, the scents and sounds of the birds followed them on their silent stroll.  
As they walked he continued to watch Meg with sideward glances. The change in her was striking. Yet, despite the rouged lips and the rich dress, she was still very much the same, frightened girl he had fled Paris with. There was so much more that she wanted to say. He could sense it and see it in her eyes when she looked at him. Though he wanted to protect her from the loneliness of her life in the city he knew that Meg wouldn't share anything more with him until she was ready.  
They continued their walk with the awkward silence trailing them like an unwanted companion. A sudden spurt of agitated laughter from Meg seemed to chase it away as she looked up at him and smiled.  
"Aren't we both such good company? I came all this way to see you; instead I'm walking around like I have cotton in my mouth."  
"No," he whispered shaking his head. "Please don't feel that you have to hide your feelings from me."  
"It's not that I want to. It has been difficult for both of us and I don't want to weigh you down with my troubles. You have had enough of your own because of Chr…" She quickly stopped herself and gave him a look of silent apology.  
"It wasn't all her fault," he said looking ahead. "I brought myself to that point. And through that I hurt your mother and you."  
She caught hold of his arm forcing him to stop. "Erik,don't say that. Anything that you did that hurt me, I have forgiven you for. If I ever thought of you as evil you proved me wrong 100 times over by protecting me during the crossing. I will never forget that."  
Looking down into her face, he was struck by the sincerity and care in her eyes. She wasn't trying to placate him out of fear or obligation or even pity. It was much more and it overwhelmed him. He wanted so much to capture her sweet face in his hands and kiss her lips. Meg's grip on his arm tightened. She was so close that he caught the scent of spice and lavendar in her hair. He found himself clutching his hands at his sides, barely breathing. Closing his eyes he pulled away from her.  
"I'm sorry, he whispered backing away.

"Erik...," she called after him.

He quickly turned away and rushed back down the shaded path cursing himself along the way.

_You fool. You damn fool!_


	14. Chapter 13

Chapter 14

"Did I forget to mention how much I have missed you," Gilles whispered as Lysette lay her head on his chest.

"You did, but I forgive you as always," she said as her fingertips glided over his damp skin.

He chuckled," Did you expect me to get you into bed so quickly?"

She couldn't surpress a smile. "I had my hopes, but I wasn't certain."

"What do you mean?"

"How do I know that you haven't become infatuated with someone else since I left the city?"

He smiled broadly, relishing her jealousy. "Well how do I know that you haven't taken a fancy to Erik and lured him into this very bed?"

"Don't be ridiculous," she hissed. "Besides he's a strange man."

"That he is," Gilles murmured. "Speaking of Erik, he and Meg should be returning." He sat up throwing back the sheet to search for his trousers.

Lysette fell back against the pillows, watching her lover scramble for his clothes. "It's almost sunset, you know. Not exactly the best time for traveling on country roads."

He grinned slipping on his wrinkled dress shirt. "Is that your clever way of trying to convince me to stay the night?"

Slowly she slinked across the bed like a cat until she reached him. Taking hold of the waist band of his trousers she pulled him close, her lips inches away from his. "You can stay if you like."

"If I like," he chuckled thrusting his fingers through her dark hair. "You little vixen..."

The sound of a slamming door downstairs pushed them apart as they quickly pulled on their clothes. Gilles left the bedroom first, smoothing back his sandy hair trying to affect his usual gentlemanly posture as he walked down the stairs. It was there he found Erik stalking through the front vestibule. He looked agitated with his hands clasped tightly behind his back.

"I was touring the rest of the house," Gilles blurted nervously. "I think that I will send a few of my men here to help you and Lysette with the rest of the renovations."

Erik stopped and gave Gilles a brisk nod. "Good...thank you."

"Where is Meg," Gilles asked. "You didn't lose her out there in that jungle, did you?"

The front door flew opened as Meg rushed inside. "Erik..." All of her pre planned insults petered out when she saw Gilles standing beside Erik.

"Ah there you are _ma petite_," Gilles said.

"I'm sorry we took so long," she apologized quickly. "But, I'm ready to go now."

"Actually, I was about to ask Erik if we might extend our visit through the night," Gilles looked over at Erik.

Erik unclasped his hands staring nervously at the floor. "Yes...of course."

"You are both very welcome," Lysette called out from the top of the stairs.

Meg noticed the look that passed between Gilles and Lysette. The thought of having to remain in the humiliating situation simply to accomodate their affair made her rush to protest. "I'm sure that we can make it back to the city before sunset."

"But sunset is less than an hour away," Lysette countered quickly. "It will take you at least two hours to return to the city."

Meg's dislike of Lysette deepened in that moment as they stared eachother down. Lysette cast a quick, but pleading look at Gilles.

He looked into the dark, beckoning eyes of his mistress and then at the hardened face of his niece."Meg, I think it would be best if we stay the night," he said.

She opened her mouth to protest, but the look of resolve on Gilles' face stopped her. "Well if I'm going to be forced to stay then I will need you to draw a bath for me and turn down my bed."

Lysette threw Meg a mocking smile. "Of course mademoiselle. I would be glad to take care of you." She stood aside and waited for Meg to take the stairs.

"Good night," Meg murmured sweeping past Gilles towards the stairs.

"Sleep well _ma petite_."

As she mounted the stairs she heard Erik's voice rise up behind her.

"Good night Meg."

She stopped on the stair and gazed down at Erik. His eyes were filled with unspoken apologies. Immediately she felt ashamed of all of the harsh words she had wanted to wound him with only moments before.

"Good night," she whispered.

* * *

Meg lay awake listening to the night sounds outside her windowwhile Erik paced the floors of his bedroom. Only Gilles and Lysette were together downstairs, drinking Cognac and playing cards. Erik waited by his door until the house went dark and the laughter downstairs ceased. It was then that he grabbed his cloak and made his way downstairs for his nightly walk. As he walked down the hall he passed Meg's door. He stopped staring hard at the heavy oak door as if he could see what was behind it. Memories of her in sleep latched onto his thoughts.

_The silky blonde locks spilling across the pillow, the small rosebud lips parted by her soft breath..._

The urge to push the door open, to pull her out of sleep and into his desire tore him up inside. He couldn't allow himself to be swept up in the dark, not again. He didn't want to feel that rush of passion and need only to be pushed away in the end.

Slowly he backed away from the door and headed down the stairs.

* * *

Meg loved the warm scent of the exotic flowers that overran the flower beds. After hours of trying to sleep she left her bed to walk off the nervous energy that coursed through her. She didn't stop to dress and walked the gardens in Lysette's oversized nightgown. The memory of that moment in the gardens was still very much alive in her mind.

_He was so close that she could feel his warm breath on her face and see the need in his eyes... _

But, when he left her standing alone it took every shred of her will not to run after him and beg him to stay. The humilation gave way to anger and she rode it all the way back to the house and through the front door. She had every intention of hurting him and telling him that he had lost his chance. If he wanted to be pathetic and mourn a woman who had never loved him then he deserved to be in agony. But, when she heard his voice and looked into his eyes she knew that she could never hurt him that way.

The sound of footsteps startled her. She turned around to find Erik standing on the walkway behind her.

He inclined his head to her. "I didn't think anyone else would be awake."

Meg folded her arms across her chest. "I was just on my way back into the house."

He held up his hand, "Meg, I'm sorry for what happened."

"No need to apologize," she whispered. "You had your reasons I'm sure."

"You mean Christine," he asked.

She emitted a curt laugh, "Who else?"

"Christine is part of the reason, yes. But, not in the way you think."

She took a seat on a weathered stone bench."Then correct my assumptions."

He moved closer to where she sat and leaned against the garden wall. "When Christine left, I was determined never to let myself feel that way again. I hurt so many people and became someone I never wanted to be because of it."

"Erik, we talked about this before," she sighed. "I told you that I forgave you! What else do you need for me to say?"

"Don't you see? I don't want to hurt you! I don't ever want to ever lose control that way again. If I did you would leave me too. I can't face that again!"

She rose from the bench and grabbed hold of his arm with all the strength in her slender fingers. "Listen to me, I'm not Christine! I know eveything about you Erik and I'm still here! I'm not here out of pity, I'm here because I want to be..." She reached up, cupping his face in her hands tracing the smooth white leather of his mask. Looking into his eyes, she guided his face closer to hers until her lips were a mere breath away.

"_I want to be here with you_," she whispered pressing her forehead to his.

He closed his eyes in surrender brushing his lips over hers. The achingly gentle kiss grew deeper until they were one, their bodies pressed tightly together. Erik pulled away for a moment looking down into her face. With a gentle hand, he brushed his fingertips across her cheek. "Beautiful...so beautiful."

She grasped his hand slowly guiding it to the open collar of her nightgown. "Please...," she whispered staring boldly into his eyes.

His hand rested against the warm, satin skin for a moment. He was falling quickly into surrender as she guided his hand deeper into the the soft white linen. He closed his eyes, breathing deeply and quickly.

"Wait," he groaned.

"What is it," she whispered.

He took hold of her hand and pulled her into his arms wrapping them both up inside the velvet shelter of his cape. Laying his cheek on her silky hair he fought to catch his breath. "Please understand me Meg...I want to..."

She closed her eyes in frustration whispering, "I know...I know you do."

"I don't want there to be any feelings of regret between us," he said pressing his lips against the smooth skin of her forehead.

She nodded her head, swallowing her need as she rested against the strong column of his body. "I understand."

With gentle hands he turned her around to face him. She looked away, trying to keep him from seeing her frustration. But, he captured her face in his hands forcing her to look him in the eye.

"It will happen," he whispered."I promise you."


	15. Chapter 14

* * *

Chapter 14

Chapter 14

_It will happen. I promise you._

Meg rolled onto her back, hugging the down pillow tightly against her body. The desire she felt for him was wound tightly inside of her, ready to be freed. Everything was different now. They were no longer bound by their pasts, but by the promise of something more. It scared her. How could she be near him and not want more? She threw the pillow aside, sighing deeply. There would be no rest for her now. Pulling the bed curtains aside she lay across the bed, watching as the first threads of sunlight wove itself into the horizon.

It was a new day.

* * *

Erik spent the last hours of night on his balcony, watching the stars being chased away by the rising sun. He didn't sleep at all, but felt completely awake. His mind was alive with thoughts of Meg and what could be. That one promise was all he could give her for now. But, he needed time. All of his deep seeded fears and ghosts needed to be put to rest before he could completely fulfill it. There was so much to let go of. His past. His sins. His obsession with _her_. His face. It was all so overwhelming. Would it all ever go away?

He gripped the iron rails until his knuckles went white.

_It will happen for us Meg. I won't let anything come between us…_

* * *

"Bonjour Monsieur." Lysette greeted Erik with a radiant smile as she laid the china on the dining room table. "Did you sleep well?"

He thrust a hand through his dark hair, his tired eyes fastened on the floor. "Well enough."

"Monsieur Galatoire is awake as well, but decided to take a morning stroll in the gardens," she said gliding past Erik to pull out his chair.

He waved her away. "There is no need for you to do that."

"I don't mind," she said with an airy wave of her hand. "Please sit and I'll serve you breakfast." She left the room, humming softly to herself.

Erik found himself feeling agitated by her carefree manner. No doubt she and Gilles made good use of their time alone. When she returned, she set a silver platter of fried potatoes in front of him. The aroma was pleasing, but he didn't feel any hunger. He pushed the platter away, sitting back in his chair. He watched the doorway waiting for Meg to come through.

Lysette raised a dark brow at him. "Not hungry?"

He sighed, his eyes still welded to the doorway. "A cup of café au lait would be better."

"I'll be back," she said, still eyeing him.

The tapping of heels on the stone floor sent him out of his chair. Meg appeared in the doorway laced in the pale lilac dress with her buttery hair hanging down her back. A smile spread across her soft lips.

He found himself smiling in return. "Good morning."

She walked towards him, hand outstretched. Without a word he laced his fingers through hers, bringing her hand to his lips. He kissed the top of her hand and gently turned her hand over to sear her palm with another. She closed her eyes. The sound of Lysette's humming reached them. Meg opened her eyes and grabbed hold of his hand, pulling him out the door. In the shadowed hall she laced her arms around his neck, balancing herself on the tips of her toes. He dropped his hands onto her hips, his body tensed with longing as he looked down into her face.

"I didn't sleep at all last night," she whispered.

"Neither did I," he murmured.

The look in his eyes told her why. "I don't know how I'm going to make myself leave."

"You will be back," he said cupping her cheek in his hand.

She leaned in to his touch. "Not soon enough."

He laughed softly and pressed his lips to her forehead. "Patience."

She stepped back, tension creasing her pretty face. "No." Pressing herself against him, she grabbed hold of his hands again, guiding them around her waist. "Kiss me."

His eyes darted towards the dining room door. "We need to be careful."

"Kiss me the way you did last night," she demanded.

"Meg," he breathed.

She captured his face in her hands, pulling his lips to hers, securing his surrender. The kiss cut through his resolve like a blade as his desire poured out over them. He grabbed her up in his arms, crushing her mouth with his.

"Monsieur?" Lysette's voice echoed in the hall.

He pulled Meg down the hallway and into his study, closing the door behind them. In the shelter of the room, he pressed her up against the wall, his hands roaming freely. She moaned softly into his ear, still clinging to him. He reached under the delicate fabric of her gown, grabbing hold of her thigh, digging his fingertips into her soft flesh. He chased his need, following it with his hands and his lips. His hand slipped between her thighs. When he looked down at her, he saw not her face, but Christine's. He stumbled back, bowled over by the shock and shame. He covered his face with his hands, sinking against a table.

_No…go away Christine…_

He felt Meg's soft hands on his shoulders. "Erik?"

Shrinking from her touch, he stood up and wandered to the other side of the room. "I'm sorry."

"Why?"

"I went too far. I lost control," he breathed.

She reached for him again. "It's what we both wanted."

He pushed her hand away. "Not this way. I can't." He shook his head. "Please go Meg. Please."

"No! Not until you tell me what is wrong!"

"Meg!"

Gilles voice came from outside the door. Reluctantly she backed away from Erik, feeling confused, her body still burning.

"Meg!"

With one last look, she slipped out of the study, leaving him crouching in his regret.


End file.
